


Invitation

by orphan_account



Category: Bon Appétit Test Kitchen RPF, Chef RPF
Genre: Brad/Claire Secret Santa 2019, F/M, chefs are doing it for themselves, notorious BTK, uses for horizontal surfaces, winter feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:17:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Claire is having a rough time of it and decides to do something for herself.
Relationships: Brad Leone/Claire Saffitz
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Invitation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stupidsecretthings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidsecretthings/gifts).

> Prompt - claire's having a rough time, she's stressed, she still has christmas shopping and baking to do, she's perpetually cold, and she misses her super secret long-term boyfriend when she's at work. sometimes a girl just needs comfort and distraction, y'know.
> 
> I really liked the prompt as I could sadly sympathize, but don't have a hot chef waiting for me at home. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think!

Claire feels her eyelid start to twitch as she stares at her iPad. She sighs and begins to rub her eye as she reads over her pie recipe for the third time. Something is off with a pie she had made that afternoon and she can’t put her finger on what was wrong with it. She’s wondering if she should change the flour when she suddenly feels a familiar warm weight between her shoulder blades. 

“Baaaaaabe,” Brad pleads. “Beds are for sleepin’.”

She turns to look at him and bats her eyelashes a few times for effect. “Then we’ve been doing something wrong.”

He chuckles and smiles at her. “Put down that shit and come back to sleep.”

“Brad ...” She gives him back his smile and pushes her fingers roughly through her hair in exasperation. “I just - there’s so much to do. I haven’t done any of my Christmas shopping, outlined my holiday baking schedule —"

“There’s always something to do ... sometimes you just gotta fucking be,” he replies as he takes her iPad and moves it to the bedside table. 

She laughs and then flops backwards on the bed next to him. “You’re a one man mindfulness seminar.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees, turns on his side, and presses against her body in the only places that matter. “Bein’ present is where it’s at.”

“And where am I now?” She reaches below the comforter - he always sleeps nude, even in winter - and drags her fingertips up along the underside of his cock until his hips give a little jerk. 

He cups her face with his left hand, dips his thumb in her mouth before quietly asking, “Don’t you know?”

She reaches down further and hits that spot behind his balls that always makes him squirm and gives it little rub. “I want to hear it.” 

He arches blindly into her palm searching for friction. “Fuck, how do you — all the time you’re ... fuck.”

She smirks and wraps her fingers around him. “Uh huh.”

He wraps his hand around her fingers and lets them both give his cock a squeeze. “You’re with me, Claire.

She smiles, pulls the comforter off of him, and swings her leg up over his waist. 

-

Brad finds her the next morning standing at the kitchen island staring blankly at the ingredients laid out before her. She greets him automatically and without much thought, doesn’t even turn away from the counter until he pokes her in the side. 

“It’s four-fucking-thirty,” he says. “And you’re doin’ it again,”

She blinks and tucks her hair behind her ear before looking up at him. “What?”

“The anxiety stare,” he responds, bends at the waist to meet her eyes. “It’s what happens when the ole jar is 4/3 full.”

“Brad.” She squints and shakes her head. “That’s not - a jar that’s 4/3 full would —"

“Overflow,” he finishes. He makes an indiscernible hand motion with both of this hands. “Flow over.”

She’s mortified to find herself tearing up at Brad’s merest gentlest suggestion that she might be stressed out. “I just need to sit down and make a plan and everything will get done. I just need to push through it and —”

Brad moves to her side of the island and wraps his arms around her from behind. He props his chin on her shoulder and nuzzles his cheek against hers. “Babe?” 

She sighs at the implication in his tone. “It’ll be fine. I’ll get it all done.”

“I didn’t go to Harvard but that don’t mean I don’t notice things, Claire,” he says, and turns her around so they are facing each other. “You do what you always do and you’re gonna get what you always get.”

“The holidays are supposed to be stressful,” she tries, but won’t look at his face. “I’ll be fine.”

He leans down and kisses her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead, and every inch of her face until she’s giggling and pushing him away. He leans down again to catch her eyes. “I’m here if you need me.”

She pulls her hair up into a messy bun and smiles affectionately at him. 

-

Claire wraps herself up in the throw blanket she keeps on the sofa and heaves a big sigh as she takes a seat. Sometimes she feels like she hasn’t been warm since before Thanksgiving. She closes her eyes and thinks about Brad. 

She thinks about Brad a lot. It was more abstract thinking before they got together. She wanted to know all the things she didn’t know - what it was like to fuck him (obviously), what he was like in the mornings, but mostly how he was when he wasn’t with her. 

She gets why most people like Brad. His energy, his consideration for other people, his size … but for Claire, there’s a little more to it. She likes order and control and there’s something really beautiful about Brad navigating the world like he does. He’s like a goofy tornado in the kitchen but she can’t argue with the results. She was a little jealous when she first met him because her slight need for structured and deliberate behavior sometimes inhibits her from being more spontaneous. He may have sensed this about her because he seemed to lean into her more than anyone else almost as if he was trying to pull something out of her she didn’t have a name for. 

She doesn’t even remember a point where they weren’t in each other’s space or their laughter wasn’t wafting back and forth across the kitchen. She does however remember the first time he bent towards her and gave her that wide smile that was as big as the rest of him. She had a shocking impulse to run her tongue across that gap in his teeth. Instead, she squeezed her thighs together beneath her apron and slammed her dough onto the counter with more force than necessary. 

But now …

Sometimes the thought of him just warms her up from the inside out. It’s like someone has wrapped a blanket around her. She never thought they would ever get together, that she would ever know that he likes to be the little spoon or how serious he takes his work and how much he cares for other people. One of the things that she loves about him is that he doesn't ask her to change. She’s always going to want to be the best at everything and work the hardest and know it all, but that doesn’t mean she can’t take a moment for herself. 

It suddenly hits her that she’s hardly seen Brad at all this week save for early in the morning or after work. She decides that she wants to take time for herself, but she wants to spend it with him. 

-

She takes a very long and thorough shower. She puts on music she hasn’t heard since high school and spends an inordinate amount of time wandering around her bedroom in her underwear as she languidly puts on makeup and decides what to wear. Brad always excites her on some level but it’s been a while since she was this excited to see him. She didn’t realize how distracted she had been with everything that was going on lately. 

She decides on a dress she knows he likes (he ripped it once trying to get her out of it) and pulls her hair up in a loose top knot. As she’s digging in her dresser for a pair of tights she comes across something that makes her face flush. She’d bought them off of Amazon one night after finishing off half a bottle of wine and she had forgotten all about them. 

She bites her lip and imagines Brad’s expression when he sees her wearing them. She stares down at the pair of crotchless tights in her hands and can’t remember ever being so turned on in her entire life. She takes a deep breath and hopes it’s not too windy.

-

She told Brad she’d meet him at the test kitchen, but as usual he has no patience and she runs into him as she’s getting out of the elevator.

He waves his arms. “Half Sour lunch hour!”

“Brad!” She grabs his arm and starts walking. She’s still turned on, even more now that Brad’s in front of her, and she swears she can feel the wet swollen lips of her cunt rub against each other with each step she takes.

He takes a somewhat comical look around as if he isn’t sure where he was. “Claire?”

“Yes, Brad?”

“Whatcha doin’?” he asks, and takes a quick look at her. “Thought we were gonna have lunch?”

She pulls him into an empty conference room and swallows. Before she met Brad she would never have considered having sex in a random conference room that doesn’t even have a functioning lock on the door, but at this point she’d probably fuck him in the middle of an hallway and take her time doing it if she were in the right mood.

“I did want us to have lunch,” she confirms. Her face heats up but she manages to add, “But right now I want to have you.”

He reaches for her but she stops him with a hand on his chest. “Um?”

She pushes him backward until the back of his legs hit the conference room table. Then she pushes him again until he takes a seat on it. She takes off her coat and carefully folds it over the back of a nearby chair, deposits her purse on the seat. Then she matter of factly lifts up the edge of her dress inch by inch until the shock shows on his face.

“Claire?” he asks, voice shrill, his gaze focused on the lack of fabric between her legs. “Get the fuck outta here.”

“I did want to go to lunch, but then I found these and ever since all I’ve thought about is us fucking,” she says, somewhat proud of herself. She reaches down and palms herself the best she can while giving him a hard look. “Of you seeing my cunt like this. Of you fucking me.”

Brad stares as if he's unsure what to do with all he's seeing and hearing.

She blinks slowly and lowers her voice. "You like it?"

“Fucking fuck, babe,” he exhales. He reaches out for her. “C’mere.”

She climbs up right onto his lap and tugs his hand between her legs. She’s been so wet for so long and over sensitized from having her cunt exposed that she’s sure it won’t take much to get her off. “Fucking finally.”

He circles her clit once and then presses in with two fingers. “What do you need? How’s that?”

She starts to slowly fuck herself on his fingers and hisses when he nips at her neck behind her ear. “I need —"

Brad tugs at her earlobe with his teeth and then whispers in her ear, “I got you. I’m gonna fuck you real good Claire.”

“More and harder,” she responds, clutching at his shirt collar. 

He presses his face into her tits and starts mouthing one of her nipples through her dress. 

She’s getting there but she can’t see his face. This bothers her. She wants to see his face more than anything right now. She puts her hand on his cheek, curls her fingers under his jaw. “Hey, none of that.”

He raises his head, eyes glazed and curious. “What —”

She leans forward, lets her nose brush against his cheek, and then kisses him. It wasn’t quite chaste and evolves into her pretty much fucking his mouth.

“God,” he groans after the kiss ends, and starts rubbing his thumb back and forth over her clit. “Wanna get you on my cock. Can —”

She moves from his lap and reaches for the button of his pants as soon as he says it. She’s so so close and she just needs something, she just needs him inside her. She takes out his cock, balls and all, and watches it twitch in her hand.

“Brad,” she says, and continues to glance unashamed at his cock. She gets one leg and then the other up over his hips and makes a little filthy noise as settles on his lap and rubs herself along the hard and familiar length of him. 

He finds himself arching up against her despite knowing better. It would be so easy to just bury his cock inside of her, but he waits for her. “Please Claire, I’ll do anything —”

She’s determined to come with him inside of her. She wants to see his wet cock moving in and out of her cunt and she wants to see his face as this happens. She wants a lot. Maybe too much, but it’s never stopped her.

He reaches for his cock and startles when he finds Claire has her own hand there. His eyes meet hers. “Oh, fuck,” he says, his voice ragged.

The expression on her face is a mirror of his own and she's suddenly desperate to please herself and desperate to please him. She’s never really been a patient person. She raises her hips and watches him as he stares fascinated as the red, blunt end of his cock begins to disappear inside of her. They share a gasp at the first contact and she emits a long groan when it continues. Inch by inch she sinks down onto him, and with one last little wriggle he was buried to the hilt, his balls pressed tightly against her ass. She exhales, cups the back of his neck, and smiles as she tenses her muscles around him. “Wanna come on your cock,” she whispers against his ear.

His eyes close as he begins to thrust in earnest with his palms flat on the table. “Fuck — I got this. I always got you.”

Claire finds Brad excruciatingly attractive even when she’s in a neutral mood. On top of that she has missed him lately and had possibly taken him for granted, she’s worn fucking crotchless tights halfway across the city in winter for him, they’re fucking on some random table, but what gets her off the most is the idea of Brad always being there for her and him telling her that.

“Tell me again,” she whispers, meets him for every thrust. 

“I got you, Claire,” he repeats, and punctuates it with a snap of his hips 

“I know, I know, I know,” she repeats like a mantra as she feels her orgasm close in on her. She feels his hand cover her mouth to muffle the sound as she comes. 

“Love you, too,” he responds, thrusts erratically, and then follows her.

\----

“We should probably get out of here,” she suggests, but doesn’t move.

“Lunch?” he offers.

She laughs and pats his face playfully. “Half Sour lunch hour?”

He sits up and helps her off the table. “More like Half Sour fuck fest.”

“Brad!” she scolds. She takes some tissues out of her purse and hands a few to him. “Please don’t say that to other people.”

"Duh." He scrunches up his face at her. “Gimme a break.”

She stands on her tip toes and kisses him. “Not a chance.”

End.

  
  
_it is a serious thing_

_just to be alive_  
_on this fresh morning_  
_in the broken world._  
  
  


\- Mary Oliver [x](https://wordsfortheyear.com/2017/08/28/invitation-by-mary-oliver/)


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